Adventures in Coat Check
by haikant
Summary: In which Loki has a spat with an inanimate object, and the girl at coat check gets caught in the crossfire.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, everyone! I've made a playlist to go along with the story. It's current to chapter 7.**

**It's at play dot spotify dot com slash user/1227962533/playlist/5Pe9AEJSeCvX4TkNuaro0t**

**OMFG I hate links so much.**

**Woo. Enjoy.**

I stifled a yawn as my glasses slid down my nose for at least the fifth time. The exhibition's opening reception was in full swing. Snatches of Bach drifted down the the hallway, along with the occasional sound of tinkling glassware.

_Only two hours left. Then sleep. Extra work means extra monies. Stick it out_, I thought to myself. I had volunteered to work the coat check for this reception, but after an hour sitting alone, I was climbing the walls. The actual checking of coats had been a relatively quick process: about forty five minutes of rich museum donors relinquishing their furs and fancy trenches to my care in exchange for numbered plastic tags.

Now I was reduced to sneaking sips of my tea (a necessity in the arena of the late night coat check) and searching for any way to make the time pass faster. The opening reception was half finished, so I expected at least some people to start trickling out.

_I'm just going to rest my head down here for a minute_, I thought, taking off my glasses and closing my eyes. _Just for a moment..._

My eyes snapped open when I heard the door unlatch and the hinges rattle. I heard a quick, purposeful tread make its way down the carpet towards the coat check area. Then, a sound not unlike the chuffing of a tiger.

"The party's started without you; I hope you're aware," I stated bluntly, not looking up from the desk.

The purposeful gait stopped. I lifted my head from the desk, reset my glasses, and took in the late arrival. My gaze traveled up his tall form, and I stood to meet his eyes. That was a mistake. Looking into his eyes was like looking into a glacial crevasse: beautiful, seemingly infinite, and capable of making me disappear quickly.

He stared back at me coolly, returning my gaze with thinly veiled contempt.

"They can't have any fun without me; I'm the guest of honor," he said with a smirk.

"Oh. Do you have pieces in the exhibition?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"No," he replied with a quirk of his eyebrow that didn't allow for explanations.

"Would you like to check your coat?" I asked, mustering all of my courtesy, along with a bit of my courage. Something about him frightened me, just enough to keep me from asking any more questions. I was in coat check mode now.

Annoyance chased the contempt from his expression. "I suppose I should adhere to some semblance of normalcy in this..." he trailed off, waving a hand to indicate a mysterious agenda. He shrugged out of his coat and passed it to me.

I grabbed the collar and was immediately struck by its weight. I almost lost my grip. Mr. Purposeful Gait smirked again, amused by my obvious surprise. I turned away, lugging the enormous black coat towards the rear of the coat check alcove. I lifted my arms above my head in order to prevent dragging the hem on the floor. I found an unoccupied hanger on the furthest coat rack and gave up my heavy burden to its sturdier care. Grabbing the plastic tag, I made my way back to the desk. Mr. Purposeful Gait was nowhere to be found.

"Sir?" I called out, "You forgot your number..." I held it out to the empty air like a communion wafer. He didn't reappear.

"I am not going to be responsible if someone else takes your coat," I muttered. _That strange diversion didn't last very long. What else to do?_ I sipped my tea, which had grown much colder in the past five minutes. _Weird._

I let my thoughts drift to the mysterious Mr. Purposeful Gait. _Why was his coat so heavy? Was it made of lead? Was the hem weighted? How could he wear it without developing serious back problems? Maybe he was freakishly strong. He hadn't looked like all that beefy. Maybe he swam. Or ran. Or was crazy good at yoga._

I'd barely glanced at him once he'd removed the coat; its soft form had obscured the finer lines of his body. _Didn't cover up his face, though. Or his eyes._ I shivered, remembering their glacial intensity. _I bet he wins a lot of staring contests. _The force of his gaze had fit perfectly in his features, which seemed prideful. _Or royal._ _What? Where did that come from? He couldn't be royalty. There weren't enough guards or paparazzi. Also, royals, as of late, seem to more closely resemble members of the Hapsburg Dynasty, which was rather unfortunate._

Mr. Purposeful Gait's skin was a pale ivory that reminded me of my own sun-fearing complexion. His mouth was a sharp dash, set at a jaunty angle when he smirked. The rest of his face had been all planes and angles, with a sharp nose and even sharper cheekbones. His complexion seemed more extreme when paired with his hair and brows, which were an inky shade. _The coat matches his hair_, I thought with a giggle, _And now you've just spent the past ten minutes waxing poetic about an arrogant visitor with a creepy stare. Granted, he's quite attractive. But come on, Nell, he seemed a bit scary._

I still held his coat check tag in my hand. I opened the desk drawer and put it inside, where it clicked against spare pens and a date stamp. Sitting back in the chair, I grabbed my cup of tea, which was now almost icy. _Oh well. At least it has caffeine. Don't think about oddly attractive men. Don't think about how it's been too long since someone has stared at you with that level of intensity. Don't think about it. Don't-_

"Ahem."

I looked up hopefully. The voice did not belong to Mr. Purposeful Gait.

"I seem to have misplaced my check number," said an older woman with the voice of a Kennedy. "My coat is that black one. There." She pointed vaguely at the middle of the closest coat rack.

"Are you sure you've lost it? Perhaps it's in your bag," I suggested, gesturing to her small clutch.

"I am sure that I did not put it there," she replied, nonplussed.

"Humor me?" I asked with a quiet raise of an eyebrow and a sheepish grin. Huffing, she opened her bag. Her eyes widened.

"Oh, here it is! Who would have thought that you would be so smart?" she said, handing me the tag. I checked the number and found her coat, which was on the second rack, near the end, and not anywhere close to where she had pointed earlier. That was to be expected. Her coat was of a particularly common design: black, knee length, fiber-fill, with a hood trimmed in real fur.

"Here you are, ma'am. Have a good night," I said as I handed her the puffy coat.

I looked at my phone; it was just past nine. People started trickling out of the reception, exchanging numbered tokens for the corresponding outerwear. By 9:45, I was down to half a dozen coats. At five of ten, I had three left: a long, red, leather behemoth, lined and trimmed with sable fur; a Burberry trench coat in khaki; and, of course, Mr. Purposeful Gait's, lurking in the back like a scolded child.

Red Leather came by a minute later to pick up her coat, and Burberry Trench left at one minute before ten. Then there was no one. I poked my head past the alcove entrance. I heard no footsteps. The lights started clicking off. A security officer walked past the desk to secure the front doors. I was very confused.

"Is there anyone left in the galleries?" I asked, hoping that the mysterious Mr. Purposeful Gait hadn't slipped by and forgotten his distinctively heavy coat.

"Nope. We're clear," replied the guard.

_Well, this is quite the quandary..._ It was getting on past ten. I was supposed to be off right at ten. I wanted to go home. And have a glass of wine. Then get some sleep. But before I could engage in those happy activities, Mr. Purposeful Gait needed to reclaim his freakishly heavy outerwear. _Ugh. Just show up so I can leave..._I heard no sounds, not even cricket chirps. _Okay, I give up. I'm leaving._

I looked back at his coat. It looked so lonesome. The sleeves hung down so sadly, empty of their arms' embraces.

"Don't look at me like that," I said, half hoping it wasn't aloud. _Too much time in coat check, and now you're talking to yourself. Back away from the cliff, Nell._ "Maybe I can send you back to your owner. Sometimes folks put their addresses in the breast pocket."

I walked over to the coat and pulled the lapel open. I reached inside the inner breast pocket and came up empty. _Maybe he's labeled his clothes. Like a ten year old._ But there was no tag anywhere on the coat. _So here's this nice coat, with no label, no name, and apparently, no owner._ _Great_.

"Hey, Glen?" I called. He had just locked the doors, and there was a slim chance that he was still in the immediate vicinity. I heard no reply.

"Fine," I growled at the coat, "you can come home with me. But you can't fit in my bag...so I guess I'll have to wear you, blasted thing. This is not permanent. I am not a thief. I fully intend to return you to your owner, once I can find him."

I gathered my things and drained the last of my ice cold tea, all the while casting sidelong glances at the coat. I managed to stuff my own smaller (inferior) coat into the bottomless pit of my bag. Squaring my shoulders, I said, "Okay, coat. Time to go."

As I grabbed its shoulder to pull it from the hanger, I couldn't help but notice that the fabric was curiously warm. _I love it when the coats are next to the heating vent. So toasty._ I slipped my arms into the sleeves, expecting to swim in its yards of black wool, but to my surprise, it fit perfectly. The hem just brushed the tops of my ankles; it was nowhere near as long as the floor dragging monster I remembered from an hour and a half ago. I knitted my brow, "Well, this is unexpected. And weird."

I looked down at myself. _Rather dashing. Mysterious. Definitely not from The Matrix. Stylish? Seek a second opinion before making the final call on that one._ I swished out of coat check. _If I wore this all the time, I'd have a proud look on my face, too. There's something to be said for statement pieces of clothing._

I flashed my employee badge at the security desk, "Goodnight, guys. Have a good weekend."

"Night. Nice coat," replied the security officer.

As I walked away from the building, I swore I felt a gentle squeeze of my right shoulder. I turned my head to see if someone had sneaked up on me, but there was no one. _Get to the car. Go home. It's been a very strange night_. On the path to the parking lot, I felt the breeze stiffen. Low pitched voices reached my ears:

"Where is it?"

"I'm not sure. It was there when I locked the doors. So was the coat check attendant. By the time I got back from my last circuit, they were both gone."

"It has to be found! Find the attendant! I'm certain she has it! Do you know her habits? I need that coat! It's infused with my magic!"

"Can't you just locate it that way?"

"Unfortunately, no. It's imbued with cloaking magic. Invisibility. She shouldn't have been able to see me in the first place."

I picked up my pace. They were talking about me! _Take off the coat. Drop it on the path. They'll find it._ My arms struggled to obey my mind, but to no avail. _Time to run away._ I felt pressure on my lower back, urging me forward towards my car.

"What's the attendant's name? The woman with the forest green eyes?"

"I don't know, sir. She's new."

_False. _I'd been working at the museum for a few months. I knew all the guards by sight, if not by name. This one was protecting me. I strained to hear more:

"You're lying."

"I'm not. I don't know her name!"

I gasped. It was Glen! We were in a book club together. He definitely knew me. He was definitely lying. This whole thing was becoming decidedly unsavory. _Why are you protecting me, Glen? Why does this guy need to be all angry? Is this Mr. Purposeful Gait? It has to be him._

"There can not be that many redheads that work at this museum! Now. Tell me what you know!"

_Shit. Getoutgetoutgetout._

I heard a thunk.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

A tiger's chuffing reached my ears.

"I will find you, Miss Eleanor Keavy. And I will reclaim my cloak."

I shivered, more from fear than cold. The coat was still unnaturally warm. It pulled itself tighter around my shoulders. With shaking hands, I grabbed my car keys. I had just opened my car door when I heard footsteps approaching fast. Purposeful footsteps.

I got in the car and turned the key in the ignition, fastened my seat belt, and began my drive home with more haste than I usually utilized.

"Good Christ, Nell. Just whose coat did you take?"

As the words spilled from my mouth, some dark green embroidery caught my eye. Lit by passing headlights, I could make out some words around the cuffs of each sleeve.

**I belong to Loki**

read the left one, and the right said,

**Consequences will befall all thieves**

…

"Well, I'm totally boned."


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of my drive home was a blur. Somehow I managed to obey most traffic laws.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT._

_Think. Think. Think._

_Why didn't you leave it at lost-and-found? What possessed you? You're a goody two shoes. You don't take things. You're honest to a fault. So why did you take this coat? _

It had looked so lonely, all by itself in the back of coat check. Like a faithful dog abandoned by its master.

_Did you want to be taken?_

I felt a light squeeze around the tops of my arms.

_Did you want to punish your master by leaving him?_

The light pressure repeated itself.

_Okay. What the hell is going on?_

_One: an oddly attractive visitor checked a curiously heavy coat and never reclaimed it._

_Two: I decided to take the coat (in order to properly return it) home with me for the night and the coat mysteriously fit me when worn._

_Three: Mr. Purposeful Gait, aka Loki, wanted the coat back, and had knocked out a guard to gain my personal information._

_Four: After asking a question aloud, the answer had appeared on the coat sleeves' embroidery._

_Was I wearing a magic, psychic, invisibility coat?_

The coat's waist belt cinched itself tight.

So, Loki, the god of mischief, had a psychic invisibility coat.

_That you, inadvertently, stole. Holy fuck._

I'd arrived at my house a few minutes prior to drawing these conclusions, and was sitting in my car, trying not to hyperventilate. I took a deep breath, got out, and walked to my front door. _You definitely need to talk to someone. Thinly veiled death threats are kind of a big deal..._

I unlocked the door, and heard strains of Kenny G wafting down the stairs.

_Dammit._

My roommate and her current paramour were most likely mid coitus. Possibly pre-coitus. _Come on, Nell, grow a pair and talk to her. This is important. She'll agree once she hears your story. Hopefully._

Slamming the door behind me, I called out, "Hey, Marie. I'm home. I need to talk to you."

Kenny G's warbling got slightly louder.

"Hey, I'm serious. This is kind of an emergency!"

The decibels increased.

"Dorcas! Marie! Fletcher! THIS IS AN ACTUAL EMERGENCY! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! NOW!"

I heard a thud, and the creaking of feet on floorboards. Kenny G got quieter. The door was thrown open with a forceful click, and then slammed shut.

"What the flying fuck, Nell? Did you really need to use my whole name? I thought we were adults, not twelve year olds," she spat from the top of the stairs.

"If you'd acknowledged my arrival, and subsequent supplications for your immediate assistance, the I wouldn't've had to use it," I hurled back, with more force than necessary.

"What's gotten into you? You know that Kenny G is code for 'Marie is having business time, so kindly fuck off.' Or do I need to add a clause to our lease?"

"I need you to be a completely objective third party right now, and help me out with this situation! Stop worrying about what's going on between your lady bits! For once, I need your help more than you need to get laid!" My voice broke.

Marie's face went from combative to worried in that instant. "Nell, I'm-" she started to say. Her bedroom door opened, and not one, but two pairs of masculine feet made their way down the stairs.

The taller one spoke first, "Look, Marie, we can do this another time. We don't want to come between you and your roommate."

The shorter one continued, "We'll be here whenever you're ready. Don't hesitate to call." As they passed me on their way out the door, the taller one met my eyes and winked, saying, "And, Nell, was it? You should consider joining us next time. Do let us know when this whole spat works out."

And they were out the door. I shut it behind them, and turned both deadbolts before turning back to Marie.

"The tricycle? The ultimate, lady tricycle?" I asked her with incredulity.

She shrugged and smiled at me, "Trying everything once, right?"

"Sounds like they wanted to try it much more than once," I said with a giggle. I kept laughing, uncontrolled, my breath coming in gasps as I started to hyperventilate.

"This really is an emergency, isn't it?" Marie whispered, coming down the stairs to embrace me. "Coat check couldn't've been that bad. I know it was a long night, but at least you got to see people wearing ridiculous things. That was entertaining, right?"

I sniffed, "Yeah, it was fine for the most part. Until the end of the night. Someone forgot their coat, and, well..." I held up my arms and trailed off.

"Wait. You stole a coat?"

"What? No. Yes. I fully intend to return it. You know what our lost-and-found system is like. This thing never would've seen the light of day. Besides, its owner never came to pick it up. I waited almost twenty minutes past close."

And then it all came tumbling out. The mysterious Mr. Purposeful Gait. The coat going from tall-man-sized to average-woman-sized. The heated exchange between Glen and Mr. Purposeful Gait. My epiphany in the car.

Marie didn't stop me once during my frantic retelling. She just looked at me, a little slack-jawed. When I reached the end, Marie finally spoke, "That totally justifies using my entire name to get my attention."

"Right?"

"You obviously need to contact this Loki, and explain that it's all just a misunderstanding."

"But he'll kill me. Or, at least seriously maim me."

"You don't know that. The sleeve just said, 'consequences will befall thieves.' Doesn't necessarily mean something bad. Who knows? It could be a free beer, and the secret to inter-dimensional travel."

"Or, I could spend the rest of my life as an ant. Or stuck in a time loop of last Tuesday."

"You'll never know if you don't get in contact with the guy. Sooner, rather than later, would probably be better."

"How am I supposed to contact him? It's not like I have his phone number. Also, fairly sure that he doesn't have a Facebook."

At this last, something made a crinkling sound in the left pocket of the coat. Marie and I exchanged startled looks. I reached into the pocket and pulled out a scrap of thick, greenish paper. I read aloud:

"If found, please return to Loki. Otherwise, he'll find you. To plead your case, call (212) 555-7303. Should I call now? Where is this area code from, anyways?"

"It's New York. Manhattan, specifically."

"How do you know that?"

"The twins."

"Ah. They were cute. And they knew it, the bastards."

I got my phone out of my bag, and punched in the numbers with twitching fingers.

The line rang half a dozen times before a recording kicked in, "We're sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable..."

"It's not available. Disconnected, I think," I said.

"Why would you give me a bad number?" I asked, directing the question at the coat. I felt the shoulder seams move up, and then back down. "You can't just shrug this off. This whole situation is, at least partly, your fault."

Marie looked at me, a quizzical expression furrowing her usually unmarred brow.

"Okay. That's all the crazy I can take for the evening. You, mad woman: go to bed. Take the psychic coat. Don't know so much about the invisibility part. Go. Sleep. We'll figure this out in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am, Miss Dorcas," I yawned.

"Don't push it, Nell. You box-blocked me earlier to drop this in our lives. You owe me. Big."

"Times two?"

"Times two."

"G'night, then," I said, stumbling up the stairs. I walked in my room with a stretch and another yawn. I glanced at my bedside clock: after midnight. This definitely would throw off my sleep schedule. I pulled off the coat and hung it on the back of my bedroom door. I gave it what I'd hoped was a withering stare.

Peeling off my work clothes, I groped around for a pair of yoga pants and a comfy tee shirt.

"Oh, yoga pants, you never let me down," I muttered sleepily, pulling them on and throwing the tee over my head.

I was just getting into bed when I noticed that the coat was gone.

"Huh. I guess you are invisible."

The coat winked back into existence. I let my head fall back on to my pillow and stared at the ceiling.

"Loki, you psycho, please don't kill me for taking your coat. S'all a misunderstanding," I prayed quietly as I began to drift to sleep.

Before succumbing to wonderful unconsciousness, I could've sworn I heard a low voice say, "Oh, Nell, killing you wouldn't be fun at all. Let's just play."

I chalked it up to an overabundance of time in coat check and frayed nerves. I fell into a slumber full of handsome strangers, swirling around me in long, black coats.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up with a stretch and a yawn. _Sleeping in, yes please. Days off are magic._ Then my eyes snapped open.

_OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT_.

I looked at my closed bedroom door. On top of my robe and collection of belts was the black coat. _It wasn't a dream. It wasn't the existential nature of coat check. I DO have an article of clothing supposedly belonging to a Norse god. Which means that everything else that happened last night was real. Including me box-blocking Marie for the ultimate tricycle. Oh balls, she is going to kill me._

I rubbed my eyes and turned to look at the clock: 8:53 AM. _I can't even manage to sleep in properly on my day off. Figures._

I sat up and pushed off my copious layers of covers, swinging my feet over the side of my bed to find my favorite pair of fuzzy slippers. I stood, stretching again. I looked at the coat. It gave off an air of indifference, but when my eyes fell to the embroidery around the cuffs, the design seemed to reach for me. _Oh Jesus-sweet-bleeding-Christ-on-a-crutch. Everything is real. Including the funky, mood-ring-esque embroidery._ Despite my sleepy brain, my breath began to come in gasps. I could feel a panic attack brewing. _In. Out. Calm down, Nell. You've gone six months without an incident. Now is not the time._ I began to cast around for my purse: it held my anti-anxiety pills. _It's downstairs on the coat tree, where you always leave it. Stop freaking out. Stop. _

_IT'SOKAYIT'SOKAYIT'SOKAY. YOU'REFINEYOU'REFINEYOU'REFINE._

My brain refused to shut down. _Come on, brain_, I pleaded, _It's too early to be dodging a panic attack. Just talk to Marie. She'll be logical. _

_YOU ARE OKAY._

I grabbed my glasses, threw open the bedroom door, and ran down the stairs, the heels of my slippers catching on the last steps.

"Marie! Please tell me that you're here!" I said breathlessly.

Silence greeted me. I looked around the kitchen, hoping for a note, and next to her half-empty French press, I found one:

_**Nell,**_

_** I don't know what the hell you were on last night, but you were scaring the shit out of me. And what was up with that weird coat? It was late, we were both tired...I was sexually frustrated, but seriously. You have been spending entirely too many shifts just staying in coat check. I'm leaving you the number for my therapist. And the contact info for sensory deprivation tank operators on W. Pratt. Try everything once, right? I'd stay home today and help you work through this, but I can't miss work again. So, I'll see you tonight? Don't go chasing after this guy without me, okay? I promise I don't have any Kenny G on the schedule. **_

_** Love,**_

_** D. Marie **_

_** PS-I will buy something for dinner tonight, my treat. Just let me know what you want.**_

_Good. Excellent. No allies in my hunt today._ I checked my train of thought. _Well, you do, technically, have at least one that hasn't left you yet. _I sighed, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet and pouring myself a cup of coffee. _Definitely will need coffee for that encounter._ I dug around the fridge for the half-and-half, adding enough to turn the coffee a dark shade of khaki. I got out bread too, and started making toast.

_Make a plan, Nell. You can't go into this thing blind. Make a list, check it twice, all the usual bullshit. Also, make sure all allies are present at strategy meetings. So go get the damn coat._

I crept up the stairs to my bedroom to grab the coat, where it still hung on the back of my door. "Come on, coat. We have plans to make and people to appease." I tugged it on over my pajamas, feeling just a little ridiculous. _Real fashionable, Nell. It's black, so it obviously goes with everything. Even your faded, old, yoga pants._

I made my way back down to the kitchen just in time to rescue my toast from the point of no return. I spread a little peanut butter on it, and sat to think. I needed to ensure that Loki knew that I was actively aware of my intentions. That he knew I wasn't trying to run away from him.

_What do you think, coat? Where would Loki go?_

The sleeve embroidery wobbled a bit before forming narrowly spaced, parallel, vertical lines, broken by a pair of horizontal ones every couple of inches.

_You might be psychic, but I'm not. Spit it out._

The lines stopped forming.

_Oh, come on. Please._

The embroidery regrouped itself to form more rows and lines.

_Great, so now I have to guess._

The embroidery was slowly coiling its way up my arms.

_Let's see. Ladders? Records? An Excel document? Shelves? Books?_

The embroidery stopped moving, and the shoulder seams gave a small squeeze.

_Okay, there's a local branch of the library right down the road from here. It's fairly plain, and doesn't have the best selection._ _I don't think it would appeal to Loki's sense of elegance. The main branch, on the other hand, is epic. It's everything a library should be; it even has a giant chess board._

At this last thought from me, the coat gave my shoulders another squeeze. I felt a tightening around my waist, only to find that the coat had belted itself.

_Don't get antsy. I've got to get myself together before any type of confrontation can be made. Let me at least grab a shower._

The coat reluctantly loosened the waist sash. I pulled the it open, the hem billowing slightly.

_You are one cup of coffee away from being shut in the loony bin. You are talking to a coat. With your thoughts. And you think it answers you with cryptic embroidery. You had best hope that Marie isn't committing you today, because she has every right. _

I left the kitchen, and headed upstairs in the hope that a blazing hot shower would clear my head. I stripped, dropping the coat haphazardly on my bed, and grabbed a fresh towel from the closet. Making my way down the hall, I opened the door to the bathroom and turned on the water. Quickly, I shut the door, allowing the small room to get steamy. As the mirror fogged up, I could just make out some faint words written on the glass:

_** Hello Eleanor**_

_** You have something of mine**_

_** I want it back**_

"Haha, Marie. Very funny. Play creepy tricks on the crazy person," I said to no one, as I wiped the words off the mirror. I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped into the spray. The water was hot enough to scald, but I welcomed the slight pain with a pleased hiss. _If the water isn't hot enough to hurt, then it's cold_. I ducked my head under the flow, and my scalp tingled pleasantly. I let the extreme heat of the water and the steam envelop my body, allowing my mind to quiet. My thoughts began to shift from strategy to somewhere decidedly less logical.

_He may be a creep, but he's a hot creep. Those eyes. That mouth. His hands._

I fantasized about his elegant hands tracing paths down my body, following the streams of scalding water with a cooler touch. His mouth would inevitably follow, with delicate kisses interrupting the rivulets running down my torso. He would look up at me with glacial eyes as he worshiped my very essence. He would press my back against the cold tile of the wall as he lifted my hips to –

_Okay, Nell. Time to stop. This is your life, not a romance novel. Get it together. Logic. Brain. Not ladybits. Brain._ I turned off the shower with a forceful push of my wrist.

"When this is over, I am definitely investing in a decent vibrator."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks heaps to my reviewers, but especially Roze, sladi, and mechanicalhyena! You are all awesome, and I love you as much as one can virtually love another being.**

**Now, back your irregularly scheduled programming!**

After the sudden end to my shower, I dried off and got dressed. I needed to be utilitarian in my wardrobe choices: no heels or clothing chosen just for looks. I donned my favorite pair of skinny jeans; a soft, green, v-neck tee; and my tall, brown boots. _Appropriately business-like, but not restrictive. Gotta go into battle well dressed. Not that this is a battle. Or anything violent. But, the confidence these wardrobe choices lend is definitely needed for all encounters today. Do I need a scarf?_

I ambled down the stairs to find my phone. It sat unassumingly on the coffee table. I checked the weather: cool and breezy, mostly cloudy. High of 50. _Take the scarf_.

I found my small purse on the coat tree, and went back upstairs to locate the coat. Opening my bedroom door, I took in the space. It was cluttered with too many books and not enough bookshelves; my clothes hamper was overflowing. _You should be doing laundry today. And organizing your books. You always say that you'll alphabetize by genre, but at this point, the books are lucky if they make it on to the shelf._

I spotted the coat on the corner of my bed, half falling off the side of the mattress.

"Come on, coat. We're going on an adventure," I said as I grabbed its collar. Holding it at arms length, I studied it carefully, looking for any sign that would betray its extraordinary nature. The sleeve embroidery was dormant; just a faint, linear pattern of forest green thread around the cuffs. The hem hovered above the floor, swaying gently as my arms began to shake from the exertion. _You may have shrunk down to my size, but you still weigh a ton. How does Loki wear you all the time? _I inhaled sharply between my teeth, making a disapproving sound. "No time like the present. Let's go."

I swirled the coat around my shoulders, smoothly fitting my arms through the sleeves in a motion more well-practiced than it had any right to be, and made my way downstairs. I grabbed a loudly patterned scarf from the coat tree and quickly knotted it around my neck.

_Purse? Check. Keys? Check. Phone? Check. Sanity? Jury's still out._

I left the house and made sure to lock the front door. My car was parked a couple houses down, and the windshield was (thankfully) free of parking tickets. _You are never going to get used to this street parking situation, Nell. Stop being paranoid. There are other things to be paranoid about today. Parking tickets are not one of them._

The coat squeezed my shoulders. _Okay, okay, I get the message_._ I'll calm down, but no promises for an uneventful drive to the library._

I fumbled in the coat's left pocket for my key fob to unlock the car. I got inside, turned the ignition, and pulled into the street. I was three blocks away before I realized that I hadn't left a note for Marie. _It's unlikely that she'll get back home before me. I won't be gone all day. Not like I have another late night coat check shift. Perish the thought. Besides, this should just be a quick exchange, done with a handshake and a smile. I'll give him back the coat and we'll each go our merry way._

The embroidery began to swirl, unfurling curlicues around my wrists.

_Shut up, coat. I know what I doing. I am approaching this with logic. And what are men, but logical creatures?_

The embroidery continued creating ever-tightening whorls.

I drove on, ignoring the coat's attempts to distract me.

In what seemed like seconds, I was in front of the library. The Enoch-Pratt Free Library, in the heart of Baltimore, was a very grand building. Large and square and solid, with enormous windows framed by Roman Doric-style pilasters, the Enoch-Pratt would look at home in Washington, D.C. It was a temple of stories, and from what little I had gathered about Loki, it was an ideal place to find him.

The street wasn't crowded; I parallel parked with ease. I got out and fed the meter for the maximum amount of time. _After I hand over the coat, maybe I can browse through the art history section. There's a Caravaggio biography that I've been meaning to read...wonder if it's any good._

Slinging my purse across my body, I walked through the front door. The coat belted itself tightly around my waist. I looked up at the ceiling, where deep and ornately decorated coffers added to the grandeur of the space.

_Breathe, Nell._

I pushed through the security bar, and looked around the room. Save for a handful of librarians and security officers, the place was empty. There were no one in sight. _Odd. There's usually at least twenty people here. I've never been the only patron here._ I stole a glance at the cuffs: the swirls and whorls continued to tightly coil in around themselves.

_Where would Loki go, if he wanted to find me?_

I felt a gentle pressure on my lower back, pushing me towards the stairs. _Up it is, then._ I climbed steadily, with my hand firmly on the bannister to keep it from shaking. At the second floor landing, I felt the left sleeve pull me towards the Fine Arts section. _Do you think Loki wants to have a deep discussion regarding Michelangelo's, allegedly latent, homosexuality and daddy issues?_ I let out a nervous chuckle, and looked around for a reprimand. The second floor was entirely deserted. _The weirdness of today just keeps on going_. I ducked down an aisle, and began to browse. _May as well kill two birds. _

The right shoulder seam gave a squeeze. Then the left. I ignored it. _Coat, stop being so spastic. What's with the role reversal? I thought that I was the nervous one._ I looked over my right shoulder, away from a (very interesting) book of drawings by Annibale Carracci. I saw nothing. I turned back to my chosen volume.

"Hello, Eleanor. You have something of mine. I want it back."

The book fell from my hands with a muffled thunk. I felt a tightness across my shoulders, though if it was from the coat or the voice's owner, I couldn't tell.

"Loki," I whispered, fear making my voice a hoarse parody of its normal alto.

"So, you've been made aware of me. I'm flattered. You know, I was taking bets with myself as to whether you would show. It appears that I have lost."

I froze in place.

I felt a body brush against my back. _Too close, there, pal. Back it up._

"If you were taking bets, then just whose side were you on?" I asked, my voice gathering strength with each word.

"Both. And neither. The point is, Miss Keavy, that you stole something from me. I do not like thieves."

I still couldn't see Loki, but I could feel his breath on my right ear. Each exhale was cooler than the last.

"Your coat seems to like me well enough."

"I do mean to find out why," he intonated as he finally came into view. "What exact quality do you possess that would make my cloak prefer your company to mine?"

He was much taller than I remembered. _He wasn't standing this close to you the last time you saw him._ _He's practically on top of you right now. _ I did an about face, and tried to back away from him, but my retreat was stopped by a bookshelf. His mouth was at my eye level, and I watched it twist itself into an impish grin. Tilting my head, I looked into his glacial eyes, "It looks more like a coat, to me. Cloaks tend to not have sleeves. Trust me, I work at a coat check."

He chuckled, "Semantics. It is MINE." He grabbed at the tie around my waist, which then fastened itself against the assault. My hands scrabbled at the coat's belt, to try to help Loki take it from me. It didn't budge.

"Hey. HEY," I exclaimed quietly, mindful of my reserved surroundings, "Get off, and let me explain!"

It was then that a coat sleeve moved. My left elbow came up, and smacked Loki across the chin. His eyes narrowed, looking from my elbow to my face. He clawed frantically at my waist.

"Stop!" I half yelled, ever wary of curious librarians. My hands came up, somehow evenly level with his chest. My arms shoved him, hard, seemingly of their own accord. He fell backwards, landing squarely on his ass. He exhaled hard and looked up at me, with a look of surprise on his face and a grunt of pain on his lips.

_Coat, is this your doing?_

A slight press of my left shoulder blade.

_STOP. I do not want to be in the middle of this shit. Don't you want to go back to Loki?_

The shoulder seams lifted and fell.

_Please don't put me in the middle of this._

"By all means, keep talking to my cloak," Loki said, still sitting on the floor.

I met his gaze. His cold, glacial eyes were full of doubt and incredulity. He looked unsure. Frightened.

"I just wanted to give it back to you, you know," I said as I folded my arms across my chest. "I have no faith in the museum's lost-and-found system. Not my fault that you left without it."

"My agent on the inside was to get it for me. I believe his name is Glen," Loki told me as he pushed himself off the floor. "This, of course, was after I realized that my cloak was avoiding me."

"Maybe you should invest in couples counseling," I replied as he regained the high ground.

"I really do want to know why it left me," Loki said in a pleading tone.

_Does this mean I need to be the mediator?_ I thought at the coat.

Loki looked at me, conjuring an expression of infinite sadness.

"Oh, fine. I guess someone has to be an adult about this."

"I knew you'd come around. Now, just let me wear the coat for a moment," Loki insisted, groping at the lapels.

"Please keep your hands to yourself, unless otherwise directed," I stated in a business-like tone.

"Oh, Nell, you are no fun at all."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello all, just wanted to apologize for the long wait between updates. I had meant to update last weekend, but there was a sudden family emergency. All is well. Here's the latest! *runs away***

Loki was still staring at me when a waspish librarian poked his head down the aisle.

"Ahem. I am just reminding you that fighting is not permitted in the Enoch-Pratt Free Library, and if you would like to continue, then I must ask you both to leave the premises," he rattled nervously, as Loki turned the force of his glare upon the poor man.

"And how is this matter any of your business?"

A, rather large, security officer came up behind the librarian and spoke in a nasally voice, "It's okay, Lawrence, I'll take it from here."

Loki drew himself up to his full height, "You—"

"It's fine, officer. We were just leaving. Weren't we, hon?" I said, stepping next to Loki and giving him a sharp jab to the ribs. The blow connected with more power than I expected, and Loki's next breath hitched.

"Indeed," he gasped, draping his long, left arm over my shoulder to place his hand possessively on the coat's lapel. "We have much to…discuss."

"Just take your 'discussion' out of the library," said the officer, whose name was Francis, according to his badge. "I don't want to be scraping fluids off of book spines and giving witness statements. Too much paperwork. Get going." He jerked his head towards the stairs. Loki gave a mocking bow to Francis and steered us past the ungainly pair of library employees. He still had his arm over my shoulders as we made our way outside.

"They're just doing their jobs, so there's no need to get wrathful," I told him as we strolled down the sidewalk. "I know you hurt Glen. He had better not retain any permanent damage, or I can guarantee that you will never get your coat back," I said, letting the words run themselves out of my mouth.

"Glen is relatively unharmed. Just a knock to the head and a little digging through his memories. He'll suffer the effects of a mild concussion, no more," Loki dismissed. "You and he have very similar tastes in literature. Though, apparently, he is behind on this month's reading selection."

"How can you know that? Do you invisibly attend book club? Have you been stalking me?!" I stopped walking, and Loki's arm slid to the side of my neck. He stopped, too.

"I just told you that I dug through his memories, and yet immediately you assume...I'm touched by your show of concern for this man, your supposed friend. I'll make sure he knows you care for him," Loki said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His hand remained on the side of my neck.

_Breathe, Nell. He's just trying to get a rise out of you._ Then,

_Is he always like this?_ The coat lifted its shoulders, holding them up for a few beats before falling. _I'll take that as a "yes."_

Loki's hand tightened slightly around the base of my neck. "Are you having conversations with my cloak again?" His mouth moved close to my right ear, "It's very, very rude."

"Would you like me to translate?" I swallowed hard, silently urging my voice not to crack.

"That would make me very, very happy," he purred.

_I'll bet it would._

"We were just discussing the finer points of your personality. My investigation is ongoing. Don't expect a report any time soon."

Loki straightened away from me, saying, "Ah, yes, well, I'm a mercurial sort. The cloak would know." His tone of voice had shifted from a seductive purr into something more terse. "Come, Nell. There must be some place to discuss this matter more privately." At this point, the flow of foot traffic had diverted around us; we'd begun attracting curious looks from passersby.

_Is there anywhere with guaranteed privacy in this city? Marie would know. But she's at work. And specifically warned against the exact scenario you are in now. Balls. _

I felt a light tug on my left wrist. Looking down at the cuff, I watched the embroidery spin itself into arrows, rotating in on themselves. _Recycle? Repetition?_ The shoulders tightened. _This would be easier if you would just spell things out. You did it once. I can't play pictionary whenever you need to tell me something._ The circles multiplied and continued roiling around my wrists; the design began moving up the sleeves toward my elbows.

"Oh, look, it's frustrated," Loki said, oozing condescension. "If you would just let me wear it, I'm sure a solution could be reached at a much faster rate."

I felt my shoulders wrench themselves away from his grasp, "I don't think the coat likes that idea."

The coat pushed at my lower back and tugged at my wrists, pulling me down the sidewalk and away from Loki. My feet caught on pavement edges, but I somehow remained upright. _People are going to think I'm possessed._ We came to a stop next to my car. _I suppose we can leave now; I have no more incentive to feed the meter. But where can we go?_ Again, the arrows rotated. I shook my head. _Please be more specific. My brain is already on overload, and it's barely noon. Have pity._ At this last thought, the coat shrugged. The circles retreated and lines took their place. A pattern formed, interlocking much like the bricks on the old-fashioned rowhouses that dominate Baltimore's residential architecture. _Huh, Flemish bond. Just like my house._ The pattern stopped, and the coat gave me a gentle caress.

"I can't take him there!" I exclaimed, forgetting that I was in a public area.

"Can't take me where?" Loki asked, suddenly sauntering up next to me to lean against the car. "If my cloak suggests something to you, I encourage you to listen. It can spot the best dry cleaner in a five mile radius."

"How do you even KNOW about dry cleaning? I would figure that you magic out any stains or smells. Or that, in addition to being invisible and psychic, this coat has everlasting ScotchGuard," I choked out, sensing the hysteria beginning to creep back into my voice.

"I can 'magic out' most things, should I ever accidentally spill on any item of my wardrobe. There is only one thing that never seems to come out by magic," he drawled, indulging my inane questioning.

Struggling to control my breathing, I quirked an eyebrow, "And that would be?" _Don't say blood. Don't say blood. Don't say blood._

"I believe it is known as Sriracha."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the delay between updates. I've been having some life issues. Not bad ones, just new and unexpected developments. #TW for a panic attack, just fyi.**

**Onward!**

I threw my hands into the air with exasperation. _I can't win against either of you, can I? _The coat gave a shrug._ Fine. FINE. We'll go to my house. Under extreme duress, I acquiesce to this decision._ My arms fell to my sides with a dull thwump.

"What are you looking at?" I snarled at Loki, whose eyes hadn't left my face during my silent exchange with the coat.

"You make the most creative faces when having an internalized discussion. Your lips twist to one side, as if emphasizing their duty of guarding your mouth against things best left unsaid. I could find it endearing, if you weren't being so stubborn about my cloak," Loki intoned, his right hand reaching up tentatively towards my face. His fingertips lightly brushed the corner of my mouth, a cool balm on my flushed skin. I closed my eyes to appreciate the unexpected sensation, then I stepped away from him with a resigned sigh.

"Just get in the car," I whispered hoarsely. My fingers found the key fob in the coat's pocket and unlocked the door. I walked around to the driver's side of the car and threw myself inside, slamming the door behind me. My seat belt was buckled, the car turned on, and I was about to drive away when I realized that Loki still leaned on the side of the car.

I rolled the window down and called out, "If you really want your coat back, you're going to have to get into the car."

"Oh, I'm aware. I would like to know our destination," Loki retorted as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Why, the safest place in Baltimore, of course," I sassed back. "This was the coat's idea. Take your complaints up with it."

"I plan to, once it is back in my possession. Which will be sooner, rather than later," Loki said as he opened the door, folding his long frame into the car with an easy, leonine grace.

"Please keep your hands inside the car at all times, and make sure your safety belt is fastened," I recited under my breath.

Loki let out a low chuckle as he pulled the car door shut, a match for the chuffing sound I heard yesterday evening whilst sitting in coat check, trying to wish myself out of boredom. _You sure aren't bored now, Nell. You have weirdness coming out of your ears. Isn't it just great?_ I looked at him from the corner of my eye, feeling heat creep up my face. He met my gaze before raking his eyes down my torso. I swallowed. _Concentrate on driving the car, Nell. Put on your blinker. Look both ways. Be aware of your environment. Not your passenger. _

"Just don't complain about the music," I ordered as I pulled into traffic. _Eyes on the road, Nell. _

"Not a word, Miss Keavy," Loki said as he put a finger to pursed lips.

I turned up the volume.

"What is this?" he asked.

I paused, "No idea. I like classical. It's soothing, no matter which piece it is. Except 'Night on Bald Mountain'. That's the anti-serenity," I paused, "Do you have any particular preference?"

"I appreciate unpredictability in all its forms. Currently, I am admiring you," Loki said. With my peripheral vision, I could see that he was still looking straight ahead, no trace of humor in his countenance.

The car veered halfway into the left lane. _EYES ON THE ROAD, Nell. _

"Perhaps I should drive?"

"Oh, no. I am not letting you drive my car. I don't care if you have a sterling record and a commendation from your local police force, you are NOT driving this car," I said in one breath. _In. Pause. Out. Pause. In. Pause. Out. You're letting the circumstances catch up with you. You're almost home. Maintain sanity whilst driving. Freak out after. You've been fine up until now. Keep calm._

Loki looked over at me as I turned the car on to my street. _Ignoreignoreignore. Eyes front, Nell._ _You are calm. You are cool. You are collected. Find a parking spot. _Luckily, since it was the middle of the day, I easily pulled into a space just before my front door. Turning off the car, I faced him. My voice was beginning to shake as I said, "This is as private as it gets in Smalltimore. Come on."

Swinging my purse over my right shoulder, I walked up the short flight of steps to the front door. I was sweating. The sidewalk was still in the shadow of a low winter sun. A cold breeze stung my face, but it only accentuated the chill left by evaporating sweat on the back of my neck. _Coat, why are you so hot? _I could feel the sweat running between my breasts. Touching my fingers to a cheek, I felt an icy, unnatural chill against my face. I quickly removed them, and they shook violently as I groped for my house key. I banged the key around the lock before fitting it and unlatching the deadbolt. I half stumbled over the threshold. _Good Christ, Nell, pull yourself together. You can't have a panic attack now. Nonononononononono._ My breath came in shallow gasps. I fumbled with the heavy coat sash around my waist. My head spun. My vision narrowed. I was dimly aware of the front door closing.

"Miss Keavy? Nell? Is this some sort of trick? This narrow dwelling doesn't seem very secure at all," Loki said, though I heard it as if cotton plugged my ears.

I pivoted around. My hands clutched feebly at my bag. Loki looked at me.

"Eleanor? Are you alright?" he asked with a hint of alarm.

"I'll be fine once I –" I managed to utter as I collapsed to the floor. I fumbled my purse open, and looked into his eyes. "Half," I croaked as I passed him a small prescription bottle. My hands kept shaking, turning the bottle into a maraca. "I just need –"

The bottle left my quaking hand as the panic attack pulled me from coherent thought.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: #TW for the end of a panic attack**

My eyes were closed against the tide of anxiety, as if my own darkness could keep it at bay. My hands shook violently in my lap.

_Cold. So cold. At this rate, your wrists will twitch themselves out of joint._

I felt a cool touch at my lips, and then the dryness of a pill. I swallowed, and felt the tiny mass press against my soft palate. My throat contracted, pulling what I hoped was the recommended dose of buspar down my esophagus. I could feel it scraping along down my throat, but I couldn't tell if it reached my stomach or dissolved en route. A hand pressed into my back, making small circles of comfort that I felt through the coat's thick wool.

"Water," I managed to croak, prying the syllables from my clenched jaw. The gentle massage stopped, and I heard Loki's purposeful tread make its way to the sink and turn on the tap.

_Breathe, Nell. In for five. Pause. Out for five. In. Pause. Out. Pause._

I felt a hand grab for mine, and the solid touch of a glass, but my shaking fingers would not obey. Rattled breathing reached my ears. _Good Christ, Nell, is that you?_ The cup's rim pressed against my lips. As I opened my mouth, my lower jaw trembled, knocking my teeth into the glass with a repeated clinking.

"Here, Nell. Drink," Loki said in a hushed tone. His voice reminded me of the cello concerto in the car: a low, melodious timbre meant to soothe and comfort.

The water slid past my lips; I felt the tiniest bit dribble down my chin. "Thank you," I whispered after swallowing a small mouthful.

"Don't thank me just yet. I doubt I'd've been able to pry my cloak from your unconscious form. It seems to have developed an attachment to you. I am merely trying to get my cloak back as soon as possible. Nothing more," Loki quipped. I could hear him set the water glass on the floor with a soft thunk. A swish of wind and fabric betrayed his movements, and a moment later I heard the deadbolt latch with a decisive click.

Slowly but surely, I came back to myself. The buspar was doing its work: my mind began to quiet, my hands ceased their incessant spasms. I opened my eyes to the outside world.

It was like I had melted into the floor. My knees splayed to one side, and I rested heavily on my right thigh. My hands, quiet at last, lay in my lap, palms up in unconscious supplication. My eyes fell to the coat sleeves, which were now covered in jagged, dark green lines up to the elbows. The embroidery zig-zagged harshly, as if to mimic my erratic heartbeat from only a few moments earlier. _You've been trying to keep me calm all day. Though, I now suspect that it was as much for my well-being as yours._

My brows knitted together as I pushed myself off the ground. _Whoa, headrush._

"Are you sure you should be standing?" Loki asked, materializing at my side to lightly grasp my forearm.

_Come on, knees. Do your jobs._ They wobbled, then steadied. "I'm fine," I enunciated firmly, weakly trying to pull my arm from his loose grip. "Do you want to talk about what is going on with your coat, or not? We can do it down here, or in my room. Your choice." The words were barely out of my mouth before:

_Crap. Why'd you say that, Nell? Your room is a mess, and there's only one exit. Are you trying to be stupid?_

I felt the coat give my shoulders a weak caress. "I suspect your chambers have more privacy than this main room. If you're concerned about privacy, that is," Loki purred, his hand reaffirming its hold on my forearm.

"Unless you want to deal with another panic attack, I suggest you remove your hand," I lied. I could feel the buspar muting my panic responses; it would be at least an hour before the drug completely left my system.

He caught my gaze from the corner of his eye, "Of course Miss Keavy." His hand fell slowly back to his side.

"But first things first," I said, bending over to pick up the glass of water from the floor. "Any type of diplomatic discussion needs tea. And after the past couple of days...let's just say that one can never have enough tea. Would you like a cup?"

Loki looked at me, then cast his eyes to the kitchen. "What's tea?" he asked, in the deadpan that only comes from complete ignorance.

"HA," I barked, "You've been here long enough to develop a healthy Sriracha addiction, and yet you don't know what tea is? Seriously? Here I was, panicking about this whole, goddamn situation, and you've never had a goddamn cup of tea? Wow, Nell, overreact much?" I laughed hysterically, wrapping my arms around my torso as I bent double.

"FOOLISH GIRL! Do not laugh at my ignorance! I've made choices regarding the fates of worlds, and you ridicule me about a beverage?" he thundered back, drawing himself upwards to tower above me.

The laughter died in my throat. I felt the coat's sleeves squeeze steadily down the length of my arms. My back straightened, and I cocked my head to meet his icy gaze. He broke our tense stand-off, ducking his angular chin to his chest. _So much for you winning all those staring contests._ His chest heaved slightly, and he spoke in a low, level tone, "I fear that any continued outburst from either of us will not produce the desired results of our meeting," he said, then paused, steeping his fingers, "I will try this 'tea.' Then we will talk." Loki raised his head just enough to look at me from beneath his dark lashes.

"Having tea means we talk here, in the kitchen. I don't like having food in my room. That's how you get ants," I stated matter-of-factly. I snapped my eyes from his as I walked briskly into the kitchen. My boot heels clunked dulling on the wood floor. Grabbing the kettle from its customary resting place on the back burner, I filled it from the tap. I reset the kettle on the stove with a watery clank and lit the burner. Spinning on a heel to open the cabinet opposite the stove, I slammed into Loki.

"Do you have a thing about personal space?" I asked, feeling the buspar sedate my tone.

"I'm not ready to reveal all my secrets, Nell. I am, however, continually bewildered by you. Not twenty minutes ago, you were collapsed on the floor, and now you move about as if nothing happened."

"Drugs are a wonderful thing," I half-joked. "Now, can you move? I need to get the tea out."

"Ask me nicely."

_Seriously?_

"Fine. Please move."

"The words are there, but not the intent. Try harder, Miss Keavy."

_Are you shitting me?_

The coat gave a small shrug as the tea kettle began to scream behind me. I winced at its shrillness. Loki reached a long arm past my waist and turned off the gas. His face was only a few inches from mine. I could smell a clean scent, like a pine forest after a frost. It was all I could do to keep from leaning into his chest.

"Thank you. May I grab the tea, now?" I softly asked.

"Of course," he responded. He stepped closer to the stove as we unintentionally switched places; an integral part of the strangely intimate dance required in tiny kitchens. I opened the cabinet and grabbed the first box I saw: a refreshing blend of green tea and mint. I turned back to Loki, "We need mugs, too."

He had already found the mugs' cabinet and placed two on the counter.

"How did you know where they were?" I asked doubtfully.

"Oh, I have my ways," he replied with a wink. I grabbed two teabags and placed one in each mug. Loki reached for the one nearest him.

"Not yet. I need to pour the water. Don't get antsy." He withdrew his hand. I picked up the kettle, and flinched as I tilted it to fill the mugs; the handle was almost too hot. Involuntarily, I inhaled, making a tutting noise. After filling both mugs, I hissed as I set the kettle on the unoccupied back burner.

"This tea smells delectable," Loki announced as he picked up a mug. As he raised the cup to his lips, it steamed heavily, and then abruptly stopped. He took a small sip, and smiled. I grabbed the other mug and sipped cautiously. _Too hot. Needs at least five minutes to cool to a drinkable temperature._ I gasped in annoyance and set the mug back on the counter.

"Is it too hot, Nell? I can fix that," my implausible companion proclaimed. He touched the rim of my mug delicately with a fingertip, wariness clouding his features. My tea steamed quickly for a few moments, then ceased. I tentatively raised it to my lips; it had managed to steep, and cool, to the perfect level of drinkability.

"Okay. I'm impressed. Give me your tea bag; it'll over steep if you leave it in your cup too long," I instructed as I grabbed the string of my own tea bag. He handed the string to me hesitantly; I let the remainder drain into his cup before tossing them both in the trash can. "Come. Sit," I said, gesturing to the adjoining room, where the dining table sat unoccupied. I took my usual place at the head of the table. Loki seated himself to my right. I sipped another mouthful of tea. _Perfect._ The coat untied itself, and the erratic cuff embroidery faded to simple lines around my wrists.

"Well, Loki. I think we are all sound, mentally. For the moment, at least. Plead your case."

**A/N, Part 2!**

**Wow. Just wow. I am so thrilled that so many of you are enjoying my story! I am overwhelmed by all the views, follows, favorites, and reviews. Y'all are making my heart go pitter-patter. *Squee* *much fangirl* I send out all kinds of gratitude! Have a wonderful day!**


	8. Chapter 8

"Excuse me?"

"I'm the mediator. I don't get an opinion. However, I'm the one currently acting as a mouthpiece for the coat. Whatever my feelings regarding you, I can't let them cloud my judgment. The coat has reacted fearfully towards you. I must respect that. Convince me that you have its best interests at heart, and I'll let you have it back."

I folded my hands decisively on the table and tried to keep my facial expression neutral.

"Tell me what happened," I insisted in a soft tone.

"I…I don't know, exactly…" he replied quietly. His eyes swept back and forth across the table before focusing on my tea mug. "I suppose it started a few days ago. I make a point to visit any cultural institutions that strike my fancy."

I raised my eyebrows; he met my skeptical gaze with a smirk.

"What? Am I not allowed to enjoy the visual arts? I am respectful, and always leave things just as I find them."

As he said this, the coat gave my left shoulder a hard squeeze, and the sleeve embroidery transformed into three bars of interlocking Xs.

"You're lying."

"Of course I am. Well done, you. Or should I give my compliments to the coat?"

"This isn't helping you. The truth, if you don't mind."

He huffed, "Fine. I was investigating."

"Investigating what?"

"The security of your museum's art collection."

"So you are…what? A security consultant?"

"Oh no, my dear. Quite the opposite."

"Don't tell me that you're an art thief. That is not what I want to be hearing right now," I cringed, resisting the impulse to put my fingers in my ears and make nonsense sounds.

"The best in your world, in fact. I've managed to keep my hobby between my coat and I, but now...there's you."

"So you weren't the guest of honor at the reception...you were there to steal something!"

"Alas, you've found me out. How ever did you manage it?"

"How does no one know that you've stolen all this art? If you're as prolific as you claim - "

"Therein lies my genius. I leave copies. Illusions so exact that not even the supposed experts can tell truth from falsehood. It's quite simple, actually," he laughed, preening. "The cloak conceals me while I perform the necessary magics. I'm in and out with no one the wiser. Until yesterday." He glared at me pointedly.

"What were you going to steal?"

"There's a lovely Rothko in that collection. I do enjoy his color field paintings. His work was greatly misunderstood during his lifetime. Tragic, really."

"I would not have pegged you as a Rothko fan. More inclined towards Pollock, I think."

"Oh, I am fond of his work as well."

"Have you been involved in every major art theft?"

"I can't take credit for everything; most art thieves are not as clever as me. Though there are a few pieces I've procured over the years that your authorities have listed as lost or destroyed. I thought it prudent, at the time, to allow that thought process to continue."

"What do you mean 'prudent at the time'?"

"Within the last century, several conflicts arose that warranted my attention. I, ah, ensured that many cultural treasures found their way into my safe hands."

"You mean World War II? The works burned by the Nazis, the 'degenerate art' show pieces, everything stolen from Holocaust victims? From bombed museums? You have it all? The Raphael? The Caravaggio?"

"I may have works by those artists within my considerable collection, yes."

"And where would that be, exactly?"

"Ah-ah, Nell. I won't reveal all my secrets. Just know that it is the most secure location available. It makes this narrow dwelling seem like a broom closet with a broken lock."

"Hey. Don't knock the rowhouse. It's a Baltimore tradition."

"I'm merely illustrating my point. But we are getting away from the problem at hand. Why did my coat, after all our years together without complaint, suddenly decide to abandon me?"

"Maybe it wants to go straight. Maybe it's had enough stealing."

"Perhaps. Do ask it for me, won't you?"

I narrowed my eyes at Loki, but did turn my focus towards the coat.

_Coat, do you want to go straight? To stop stealing?_

The coat shrugged.

_Oh, come on. You must have a reason for leaving Loki last night._

Another shrug.

_Fine. Let's play pictionary, then._

I felt my torso straighten and my shoulders square against the back of the dining chair. My arms stretched in front of me on the table, parallel.

_Game on, coat._

The embroidery gathered itself at the edges of the cuffs, then exploded up the sleeves. An ever-swirling kaleidoscope of shapes rioted past my elbow, across my chest; the dark green thread eclipsed the black wool. I looked across the table in disbelief at Loki. His mouth hung open, and he caught my stare after a moment, snapping his jaw shut with an audible click of teeth. We both looked back to the coat sleeves in wonder.

The embroidery slowed its spiraling, and I could make out the most prevalent patterns.

_Knots? Pretzels? Shoelaces? Braids? Weaving?_

No discernible response from the coat.

_Use your brain, Nell. What do all those things have in common? THINK._

I looked up at Loki, who now sported a small grin.

"You know what it wants, don't you?" I accused, narrowing my eyes.

"I've made an educated guess. I'm waiting to see if you are as clever as you've seemed to be throughout this encounter of ours. Until then," he put a finger to his lips, "Not a word."

_Ugh, cryptic much? How about this: category: things that are tied together?_

The coat squeezed my shoulders.

_So, you and Loki are bound together?_

No response.

_But you are, uh, colleagues, at least?_

Shoulder squeeze.

_Friends?_

Another squeeze.

_I don't get it. Why would you leave him if you've been friends for so long?_

The embroidery receded abruptly to a single line, circling the sleeve around my right wrist. I gasped, and thought to the coat, _He's your only friend, isn't he?_

The coat pressed on my right wrist, affirming my conclusion. I took a deep breath as a wave of sadness came over me, and I raised my eyes to meet Loki's gaze. He wasn't smiling.

"I think," I croaked out, "Your coat is lonely. It only has you. I think it wants a friend. Other than you, I mean." I glanced down at the coat's sleeves for confirmation. The single line multiplied into a repeating pattern of triangles and hooks.

_Coat hangers? You wanted to be my friend because I work in a coat check?_

A shrug, then a friendly squeeze from the coat supported my findings.

_Why did you stay? You could've gone invisible last night, with me none the wiser. Glen would've scooped you up to return you to Loki._

The pattern of hangers shifted back to the single line on the right cuff. I felt a soft nudge on my left wrist, where another single line had appeared to encircle that cuff. I remembered my quiet musings from the night before; my thoughts teetering along the edge of a madness driven by solitude.

_I'm lonely, too._

The waist sash wound around me and pulled itself snug.

_I knew that no good could come from me talking to myself,_ I chuckled.

"Are you quite done having personal conversations? I'm not used to being ignored," Loki said imperiously.

"Calm your tits," I snapped. "Apparently, the coat wants to be my friend. I don't know exactly what that will entail."

"I wasn't aware my coat needed friends. I thought it wanted to bring you in on the next heist. And I'm rarely wrong about my coat."

At this, the coat tugged on my right wrist.

_Do you?_

Dark green sunbursts peppered the black wool around the cuffs.

_I'll take that as a yes._

I looked across to Loki again: an eyebrow was quirked up in a wordless query.

"I thought I made it clear earlier. I am not a thief. Of coats, or art. Especially art."

"Come now, Nell. Don't you want to see the best in action?"

"No. Definitely not. In fact, I'd rather see you try to return everything you've stolen without the authorities finding out. That would be much more impressive."

"Ah, reverse psychology. I know it well," he paused, leaning his tented hands against his mouth. "Just once. Just to prove my commitment to the coat." He brought his hands to the table. "Just for you, Nell, so that you won't doubt my sincerity. I will return a stolen work. And you shall assist me."

"Um, why do you need my assistance? Again, just to reiterate for the billionth time, I'm not a thief."

"You can drive."

"To where? Your hoard? I didn't think you kept it," I swallowed, "anywhere drivable."

"You'd be surprised where four wheels can take you. Two legs, as well, for that matter."

_The sooner you do this, the sooner you can get back to your life. Deep breaths. Remember that Marie is getting dinner tonight. You'll be fine._

"Do I really have a choice?"

"Of course not."

"Fine. Where are we going?"

"I'll let you know if you make a wrong turn."

"Wow. Thanks for being so specific. Any special requests? Bon-bons? A mani-pedi? The soul of my first born child?"

Loki looked at me sharply, then grinned, "You should not joke about such things, Nell. Though I would like to pick the music for our journey."

"I absolutely refuse to listen to metal or Schoenberg. Anything else is fair game."

"Do you happen to have 'The Best of Queen?'"


End file.
